


Christmas Miracle (With the After-party)

by FarrahGone



Series: Trixya Oneshots [3]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Christmas AU, Extended Version, M/M, Smut, reposted, trixya au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarrahGone/pseuds/FarrahGone
Summary: Brian Mccook owns a recording company.Brian Firkus is a country singer.It's a strange twist of fate *wink wink*(Christmas Porn Miracle reposted and extended)DISCLAIMER: I am very against plagiarism and a sucker for originality. If there are some aspects to this that match other authors' works (except for popular tropes, that is), it is purely coincidental and I give credit to whom credit is due.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Series: Trixya Oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855720
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	1. The Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally published independently but being so normal, I orphaned it. here's the link to the original. 
> 
> [ Christmas (Porn) Miracle ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25423192?view_adult=true)
> 
> prolly the same but extended

The phone rang two times and it was more than enough for Brian McCook, a strict and hard-working thirty-one year old talent manager, to get a pounding headache. Begrudgingly, he picked up the phone.  
  
"Merry Christmas!-"  
  
A woman said from the other line but was quickly cut off by the grumpy man. He rolled his eyes immediately, running his hand through his hairless head.  
  
"It's fucking seven in the morning, Famela Dam-Mikkelsen. I have a nine -thirty meeting. What the fuck do you want?"  
  
The woman on the other line, Famela, his best friend and secretary, giggled.  
  
"Ooh, salty, are we? Besides, what kind of psychopath works on Christmas?"  
  
"The kind that pays your bills. And I already know I'm ridiculously crazy, thank you very much." He responded dryly.  
  
"Brian, cancel that meeting. I sent you a hot, hot, holiday present that you'll actually enjoy."  
  
Famela all but purred the last sentence, with an exaggeratedly heavy sigh making Brian, a flaming homosexual, cringe.  
  
"I have a huge headache, Fame. It better not be a gay-for-pay prostitute, or an ugly stripper. You know I stopped doing those a long time ago!"  
  
Fame remained silent for a few moments.  
  
"... it's a masseur. He's really good."  
  
Brian ran his fingers through his head once more in frustration, rolling his icy blue eyes. Of course Fame would pull something like this. She does every year since she found out what he actually does for Christmas.  
  
"Wow. It makes a big difference, doesn't it?" He says sarcastically. Fame sighed dramatically.  
  
"Why are you so difficult, Brian? You need to give yourself a break, please. It's Christmas. Treat yourself."  
  
"No, you don't understand! This is an up and coming country singer we're talking about and I can't afford to lose this contract. I worked so hard to establish this business. I don't need any distractions right now. He was in the Grand Ole Opry, last week, Fame. That’s a big deal." He weakly responded in lieu of a sarcastic moment, almost in tears.  
  
"You know what you need?"  
  
"What?" He scoffs, ready to hear yet another lecture about growing old alone, about how money can’t buy good companionship, but it seems that Fame had something else in her mind.  
  
"You just need a nice, slow fucking from a real muscly, musky masculine man who would pound you into another dimension and make you cum so hard you'll actually see the fucking holiday spirit, or you could fuck them into another dimension? I don’t know, I know you haven’t bottomed since-"  
  
Brian's mouth hangs open even though Fame couldn't see him. They've been best friends for five years but he has yet to get used to her vulgar and straightforward mouth.  
  
"Famela, you are really disgusting." Was all he had to say.  
  
"Well, Patrick and I are about to get busy. Enjoy your massage!"  
  
She laughs before hanging up. Brian threw his phone at the foot of his bed and groaned, covering his face with a pillow. He doesn't like the way Fame tries to tell him what to feel, what he needs, but more than that, he hates the fact that she is absolutely right.  
Brian found himself running his fingers through his stomach in circles as he looked back to the last time he dated, or at least, hooked up with someone. His best friend’s right, he's just...alone, and lonely. Through many holidays, Brian had to distract himself with work...to stop the pain.  
  
His work has saved him from things that he didn’t want to see, the loving gaze between his secretary and his receptionist, the way Fame’s eyes sparkle when she passes by her husband’s office, and the fact that he’s lying to himself when he says that he doesn’t need someone in his life.  
  
He's not really that bad looking, he thought to himself. Brian McCook is thirty-one years old, with pale skin that is covered in intricate tattoos. His past lovers have commented how hot they looked on him, how the colors highlighted his otherwise boring complexion. He’s only 5’8, but he makes up for his petite built with tight muscles that he worked for three times a week at the gym. He had shaved his head and started to grow his beard out a couple of months back. He knew he looked hot, the perfect gay yogi fantasy.  
  
Still, Brian found himself going through a slew of short term relationships, something he firmly does not believe in. He was always romantic, even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Hook-ups keep him sated and satisfied until he watches them walk through his door, never to return again. The men that he has dated in the past either get too tired to keep up with his fast paced life or he just doesn't see a future with them. Most of the time, it's the latter.  
  
He’s not just a romantic, he’s also logical. He knows that he cannot spend his life with someone who has zero objectives, no aspirations, or at least short-term goals on their mind. He’s looking for a partnership, someone he can share the success of his recording company with.  
  
He chuckled as he realized that he was narrating his miserable love life- or lack thereof, on his mind, "You need a shower." He mumbled to himself. Brian jumped up from his bed with a little effort, the sudden movements making him feel dizzy, or maybe, it was all that wine he had on his little Private Christmas party the other night? Either way, the motion has rendered him unable to move, almost immobile. He watched his ceiling spin and make funny shapes right before his eyes. He felt light-headed.  
  
"I'm never drinking again."He moaned, rubbing his temples. He trudged to the bathroom, stripping as he did to save time. Two minutes passed, and then there was someone ringing the doorbell. “Fuck.” Brian muttered angrily. He dramatically plopped himself back on his bed. He figured that he doesn't have the time for a shower, so an ugly sweater will have to do. “I’m up, up." He says to nobody as he picked the pants the just discarded on the floor, not bothering to pick up his underwear.  
Brian answered the door, taking his time; whoever was on the other side has got to deal with that, unless they want to feel his early morning wrath. However, he was not ready for what was on the other side.  
  
"Oh my God."  
  
He whispers as he stared at the tall brunet that was standing in front of him.  
  
"Hi." The man says shyly, offering a smile. His voice sent tingles through his body, specially...down south.  
  
"C-Come on in." He says, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his outfit. The stranger sauntered inside quite slowly. Brian locked his door and took a deep breath before joining the man in his living room.  
  
"Would you like something to drink?" He asks, sitting beside the man on the couch. For the first time ever, he got anxious about the proper amount of distance between him and his guest.  
  
"Beer is fine." He says, and again, his voice made Brian feel things he never knew existed. The man looked to be in his early twenties, and is bald-headed like Brian. he is neither muscly nor chubby, he’s got muscles showing, possibly a development from only a few months of work, a little fat still making his body look soft, and supple. Brian almost moaned at the idea of running his hands through that body, squeezing those muscles on his arms and thighs. From where he was sitting, Brian knew his ass must be phenomenal too. He’s all too aware of how it curves away from his hips, spreading out on the couch. Brian excused himself to get the stranger something to drink.  
  
His inappropriate thoughts never ceased as he adjusted himself in his pants. The man is not really handsome, but not bad looking either. There's just something about the way his dimples show when he smiles, showing his crooked tooth that Brian found adorable, his brown sultry eyes, and that cowboy hat, God. Brian could barely contain himself, could barely control his breathing as he handed the beer. A quiet “thanks” escaped his lips. He took a sip and Brian watched his Adam’s apple move, after the first sip, the older man just about lost it.  
  
"How old are you?" Brian asks carefully.  
  
"I'm 23, going on 24 next month." He smiles politely. Brian nodded. That is when Brian said the words he never knew he'd say that particular Christmas day.  
"I-I wanna fuck you so bad."  
It came out more seductive than he wanted to be, and Brian is happy about that. The man stared at him, looking for any trace of humor, uncertainty. Taking a deep breath, the skinnier man launched himself into the man's lap, earning a surprised groan from the brown-eyed charmer. Brian instantly locked his place in his lap, taking his face in his skinny hands, then his lips to his in a fiery, urgent kiss.  
  
The man, eyes widening in surprise and arousal, did retaliate with more than enough lust and passion, hands automatically roaming Brian’s chest. To Brian’s delight, the man instantly submitted himself, maneuvering their position until he was lying down with the older man on top of him. He wanted so, so badly to pull away from the kiss, to ask all the questions stirring his mind but Brian's soft moans and urgent hands were a stronger combination of force pulling him. The kiss was filthy and languid, open-mouthed and hungry. Brian’s tongue explored past the man’s eager mouth from time to time, licking around his cheeks and face a little bit, but then the younger man would whine and chase Brian’s tongue with his mouth, sucking it in his own and grazing his teeth. It was hot, Brian groaned guttural, frantic. Their hands continued to explore each other, slipping past fabric, squeezing flesh, and scraping skin.  
  
Ultimately, as the kiss slowed down, Brian seductively bit and tugged on his bottom lip as he broke the kiss. They were both breathing heavily. His swollen spit covered lips made him look even more appealing. Brian stood on his feet, pulling the man with him, his chocolate-colored eyes now laced with disappointment and need.  
  
Without a word, he pulled the taller man by his shirt, pressing their bodies together. He looked at the sexy stranger through his eyelashes with a pleading, enticing, inviting look. With a sudden surge of confidence, Brian run his skinny hand from the charmer's neck, then down to his left pectoral muscle, giving it a light squeeze. The man too, who up to that moment remained a complete stranger, wanted to get to know Brian's body. He released a shaky breath, and nodded with a determined look.  
  
He lunged forward and pushed Brian on the couch, climbing over him. He thrust Brian's legs apart, settling in between them. Their lips reconnect, and so their hands got acquainted with each private orifice. If the boss wants it, he might as well show off, he thought. However, the talent manager had other plans. He carefully pushed the younger man back to his feet and stood up, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist.  
"Jump." He says in a dominant command. The stranger did as he was told. He wrapped his legs around Brian’s waist as they navigated to his room. The stranger in his arms didn’t waste time, licking and biting on Brian’s neck until they reach their destination. Brian practically threw the man into the bed. He then started stripping, the man eyed him hungrily, his eyes traveling to Brian’s cock, red and leaking precum. Their eyes met, both with longing, a carnal desire to touch each other.  
  
Together, they wrestled his clothes out of him, pulling at each other until they were skin to skin. The younger man removed everything except his prized cowboy hat and Brian is far from complaining. Brian slotted himself between the man’s legs, instinctively grinding his hips to rub his penis against the man below him. The talent manager salivated at the sight of his uncut dick, which had to be eight or nine inches. He made a mental to taste it later.  
  
Brian trailed soft, light kisses from his cheeks, gaining passion and intensity a little at a time until the man with the cowboy hat found himself a moaning, squirming mess as Brian left little to large love bites on his neck and lower down, in no hurry. It's as if Brian is taking his time in memorizing every inch of the man's body.  
  
As he reached his chest, he licked sucked, and even grazed his nipples with his teeth, his bites continuing down to the man's abdomen. He had no choice but the grasped the sheets on his sides. Brian crawled back up, giving him another hard kiss and asked him.  
  
“You sure about this, babe?” Brian asks, his hands now tweaking the man’s nipples.  
  
“Yeah, fuck yes.” He replies, now gaining enough energy to reach down and squeeze Brian’s butt, moving his hands up Brian’s body. The older man moaned loudly as the stranger started pumping him, a finger circling his tip.  
  
“Mmm…fuck. I don't want you to be uncomfortable okay? Tell me when to stop.” Brian can barely focus, overcome with lust, eyes foggy and his body sweaty.  
  
“No, don't stop. Please fuck me now.” The man whines. Brian reached into his bedside table’s drawer, fetching a bottle of lube and a condom. Brian moved away momentarily to take in the sigh ton front of him. The man is a vision, lying down with his legs open wide, his clean shaven body responsive to every touch. He had started touching himself as Brian squirted a dollop of lube on his fingers. The man looked so adorable and so seductive at the same time. He smiled down at Brian, his crooked teeth making him look even cuter. Brian smiled back, wide. They held eye contact for a few moments, a final reassurance on what’s about to happen.  
  
“Open wider, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.” Brian almost whispers, scooting closer to the man’s hole as he pushed his legs further away. He visibly shuddered as he felt Brian’s hot breath. Brian couldn’t help but give him a few kitten licks, his tongue probing on the delicate opening.

“Oh my god, you feel so good.” He whines, one hand running through Brian’s head while the other caressed his own erection. Brian immediately began with two fingers which slid in with little difficulty. He started moving them about, in and out, wiggling his digits to try and find his prostate. The man beneath him, mewled, whined, moaned desperately, the sounds that to Brian, was far more melodious than any music he has ever produced. He eventually added another finger. After all the stretching and stimulating, Brian climbed again for another kiss, which the younger man welcomes earnestly.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. So fucking pretty. Can you ride me, baby?” Brian whispers in between nips on his ear. With a quick nod, the man pushed him slightly, switching their positions. Brian rolled the condom on himself, squirting a few pumps of lube to slick up his cock. The man straddled Brian, sinking slowly into his member. The first few inches did fit in quite snugly, giving immense pleasure to both of them. They moaned almost in unison wantonly. He ground his hips down to the older man, experimenting between moving back and forth and slow, firm circular movements, driving Brian insane.

"You feel so good, babe. Say my name, tell me how it feels." The man started moving up and down, riding him properly. Slowly, impressively maintaining his pace, he locked his hands on the flesh of Brian's shoulder.

"I said say my name. Come on, babe." Brian says, giving his nipples a light squeeze. This made the man move faster, his breathing started to hitch as his movements become more on more erratic. Brian started to meet his thrusts, holding him down by his hips.

"Ahh! Fuck. Brian! You feel so good, Brian! God, fuck…" The younger one moaned with every thrust. Their hips met with a coordinate mess of movements. It didn’t make sense, but it worked perfectly for them. Brian moved his hips from side to side, grinding into the young stranger to hit all the sweet spots inside the other man.

"Louder!" Brian growled, speeding up just slightly.

"BRIAN! GOD, BRIAN! I'M CUMMING!" He moved up and down hysterically, the urgency obvious in his voice, his blunt nails digging into Brian.  
...and he did. He sprayed on Brian’s stomach, more than he thought he actually would. Still, he enjoyed Brian's thrust, and the throbbing inside him as the man also climaxed with one last sharp thrust. The man collapsed on top of him. Both breathed heavily. Brian’s ears were ringing, his eyes cloudy, as if he’s in a half-asleep daze. The man dismounted him after a few minutes, taking it upon himself to discard the condom on Brian’s dick, tying it at the end to avoid a mess.

Just when Brian thought he's finished, he climbed down to the foot of the bed and licked Brian’s stomach clean of his own cum, almost making the older man hard again. He reached out to grab him and he obliged, wrapping his arms around him. Brian moved closer until the man almost on top of him.

“That was so fucking amazing, babe. Maybe hold off the massage part after a nap?” The other man giggled and shook his head; he leaned into Brian’s fingers that started tracing the skin on his arms.

“No, I’m serious. I think I have a lot of tension on my shoulders-Wait!” Brian pulled away slightly to look at the now confused man.

“Did Fame lie? Are you not a masseuse”?

The man stared on, keeping his silence.

"I don't like silence. What are you thinking?" Brian inquires.

"I'm not a masseur." He rolled on his back, running his hands through his face.

"Then, what are you?"

The man took a deep breath before answering.

"I'm a country singer. I emailed you yesterday."

All the color drained from Brian's face. Just then, someone rang the doorbell...


	2. After The Miracle

“I guess…Excuse me.” 

Was all Brian could say, eyes never daring to venture towards the hot stranger on his bed. Maybe it was out of shock, out of embarrassment. He fished for his clothes around his room, ignoring the nagging feeling of having someone watch him. He’d deal with that later. Right now, he’s got to deal with whoever the fuck is ringing his doorbell again. 

Brian didn’t know how tired he was until he had to hold on to every wall he passed by on the way to the front door. With another deep breath, Brian pried the door open, trying not to relive what had transpired just about an hour ago in his mind. 

“Yeah?” He lazily leaned against the door frame as he crossed his arms on his chest. There was, yet again, a dashing man standing just a few inches away from him. This time, the person exuded confidence, sexuality, and practiced poise. His muscly arms were perfectly proportioned to his equally beefed up body. His massage uniform, a tight-fitting black pair, clung to his muscles, showing off his toned physique even more. He was carrying a bag in one hand. 

Brian assumed it had to be an assortment of massage oils, relaxing lotions, or stuff like that. He’s not sure, really. What surprised him the most, is the fact that he found none of this appealing. He just doesn’t have those brown, innocent eyes, that soft and supple-looking body, that little snaggletooth and--he’s fucked. Brian realized that he’s already comparing him to the guy in his bed, whatever his name is. He can’t be bothered with that right now, no matter how much he wants to run to his room and do it all again. The masseur cleared his throat after a long awkward silence.

“I’m here for Brian?” The blonde shook his head and held up a hand before turning back inside to grab his wallet. He took a stack of bills, not even bothering to count, and walked back to where the man is standing. Brian handed him the money, but the guy refused to take any of it.

“It’s already been paid for, sir.” He protests but Brian waves it off.

“That’s for driving all the way here from wherever you’re from. Just…tell Fame whatever she wants to hear, okay? I’m just really…not in the mood for this.” With an awkward wave goodbye, Brian went back inside and shut the door. Turning around, he is met with the country singer, already dressed and seemingly headed for the door. He looked shocked as their eyes met again. 

Brian Firkus. Of course! How could he forget? The breakout country star of the year, the highest-selling gay country singer nationwide, the very first openly homosexual country act to be invited, and inducted to the Grand Ole Opry, all at the age of 23, just a year after launching his first single, and a full album just weeks after. That wasn’t enough, however. He stubbornly performed in full drag, under the name Trixie Mattel, just to see a couple of old bluegrass singers fight an aneurysm. He was a phenomenon, a new gay icon, Brian’s client, and Brian’s latest sexual partner. 

The younger man averted his gaze first. 

“I think I should go.” He says quietly. His voice is still a bit hoarse from all the screaming and Brian willed himself to stop being disgusting for a moment and focus on the man, who looked like he’s on the verge of tears.

“No, I think we should talk about this.” He responds softly, walking towards the other man carefully as not to scare him. The singer shook his head.

“My manager will call you tomorrow, then you guys can decide…whatever.”

Brian is 31. He’s been in and out of relationships, signed and retracted contracts most of his adult life and one thing he knows that applies to both situations is clarifying the implications of the situation at hand. 

“Bri—, you know what I mean. We have a few things to say about this and we can’t just leave this here.”

It was enough to make the younger Brian make down in heavy sobs. Brian slowly led him towards the couch so they could sit side by side.

“Hey, it’s okay. You can talk to me. ” _Although we were communicating with moans just thirty minutes ago._ He was tempted to add but decided against the inappropriate remark at the last minute.

“I didn’t mean for…this to happen.” He started, still catching his breath from sobbing. Brian’s heart sank a little, but he bit his tongue and urged the other man to continue.

“I was gonna show you that I’m worth it, that I can be the next big thing, you know? This…what happened…it wasn’t a part of my plan. I swear.” He looked into Brian’s eyes, pleading, hoping that Brian understood what he was trying to say. Brian nodded.

“Of course, I know that.” Brian made the first move after all, and as wild as the younger man was in bed, he looked far too innocent to try and pull something like that, though Brian knew that he would give up everything for him at that very moment, just to see that contented smile again. 

“I…” and he started crying again. It hurt Brian to see him in this state, someone so sweet and adorable, barely able to express his feelings. The older man left momentarily to a glass of water.

“Am I pressuring you? You don’t have to talk about it right now if it’s personal.” Brian handed him the glass, letting their fingers linger for a few moments. Brian was about to berate himself for it, but when country Brian leaned into him, his elbows nearly on his thigh, the producer determined that he’s doing just fine.

“Not really. It’s just hard to say it out loud. Critics, I mean straight middle-aged reporters say that all my work, no matter how successful it is, is credited to me being gay. I am, like, the gayest gay there is to exist, but it’s all they see. Sell a million records? It’s because gay people bought my shit. Sold out concerts? It’s apparently because gay people are looking for a way to extend Pride. It’s tiring. I am gay, but it’s not just who I am. I’m an artist, I write my songs.” 

He sighs sadly. As the singer poured his heart out, Brian inched closer to him until his arm wrapped around the man’s shoulders. They sat in relative silence for a few minutes, younger Brian’s head now on Brian’s chest. 

Brian’s fingers tapped on the man’s skin rhythmically as he gathered the courage to respond.

“Is that what you’re worried about? People finding out about this?” Brian whispers.

They both turned their heads to look at each other. With their proximity, they can feel each breath, could count on how many times they inhale and exhale, and with a little tilt of the head, can make their lips connect. 

“I don’t even know what my manager will say about this. You’re like, the biggest music producer today. People will think that I got in because I fucked you, or you signed me up ‘cause we’re both gay. It’s just not fair.” 

Brian gave his shoulder one squeeze, then dropped the question he dreaded the most.

“Do you regret it?” 

The country singer surprised him with a light chuckle. 

“Of course not! It was great. I’m a grown man and it was consensual. I just have to find a way to sort it out because…” He cut himself off with a yawn. Brian grinned at this. It was enough to alleviate some of the tension in the room. They’re okay. They will be. The thought gave Brian a huge feeling of relief for the man beside him.

“Rough night?” He teased. 

“I released a music video last night so I hosted a virtual viewing party from 9 to past three in the morning, then I had to be up at 6 so I could get ready and drive here for this meeting.” He explains.

“And you were here at what, seven? It was supposed to be at 9. You were way too early.” Brian commented, being careful not to sound accusatory.

“I kinda realized that the moment I rang your doorbell. That’s why I was so embarrassed. I’m not normally all that shy. “He says, now smiling through another yawn. This didn’t go unnoticed by Brian this time.

“If you don’t have anywhere to be this morning, may I interest you in a mid-morning nap?” Brian can barely hold his grin as he spoke as if he was a salesperson offering a mundanely interesting product to an unsuspecting customer.

Younger Brian laughed at that, surprising Brian again by pulling him to his feet, leading the way back to his bedroom. 

The younger man, now a bit more bubbly, let go of Brian as they reached the bed to smoothen out the sheets and blankets, puffing up pillows as he goes. This allowed Brian to just look at him, fumbling with the beddings on his knees, possibly purposefully bending over a little bit to reach the corners without having to move. 

Adorable, gorgeous, charming, delightful. Brian could probably go on and on and wear those words out, roll them out his tongue delicately to describe the young man in front of him, but it would never be enough. He holds a certain level of innocence in him, and if Brian hadn’t ravished him earlier, he would’ve thought that this person is incorruptible. It warmed his heart. He’s never had the opportunity to appreciate that kind of domesticity (Because he rushes to work every morning and barely pays attention to anything else.).

“You coming?” His sweet voice cut through Brian’s consciousness and forced him back to reality. Brian nodded, this time not even bothering to hide his grin. The other man had already removed his pants and crawled under the covers. Brian pulled his shirt over his head, his pants followed. He climbed into bed, the other Brian draping the covers over him as well. They rolled on their sides to face each other, both smiling.

This is not a romance novel, a work of fiction. No awkward energy was left in the room anymore. It was calm and comfortable, perhaps sexual, but that could wait until after a nap. Brian’s headache was making itself noticeable again, and he could see Brian’s eyes drooping. 

He reached out an arm towards the man. The country singer immediately rolled over into it, his head on Brian’s chest yet again. They pulled themselves together, now a mess of tangled limbs, arms, and legs wrapped around the other. Brian watched him, catching the exact moment he let himself succumb to sleep, with a crooked smile on his face. Brian ghosted his lips over the man’s forehead, but decided against it and just closed his eyes as well.

******

Brian woke up to gentle tapping on his chest. Brown doe eyes met his icy blue ones as he began to wake up. His smile was automatic, like a knee-jerk reaction. Just as he opened his mouth, his phone rang from the bedside table on the other Brian’s left. He immediately passed it to the owner, knowing how hectic his schedule always is. 

Like Brian suspected, it was his best friend, yet again. He just realized that it was now past noon. They were asleep for at least four hours. Without detaching himself from the other Brian, he pressed answer.

“Hey! I heard you had lots of fun…” Fame excitedly giggles on the other line. The older Brian glanced at Brian and winked, making him roll his eyes. It was endearing.

“I did. I really did.” Fame could probably tell that he was smiling based on his voice, but he as too elated to prove her wrong right now.

“Does that mean you’ll be interested in another appointment?” Fame asks him in a hopeful tone. He felt fingers delicately trace the tattoo on his left pectoral before he even had time to answer his best friend. Those brown eyes were now playful, full of mischief. Brian quickly leaned down and kissed him, hard, for no more than a few seconds, earning him a surprised groan that Fame probably heard, her disgusted yelp resounding on the phone still on his hand. Whatever story he wanted to tell his secretary doesn’t matter anymore, not like he could keep the truth from her for long. 

“Brian McCook! What the fuck? Was it a threesome? Did you kick him out and keep the other one?” Brian had to admit that it is fun hearing Fame scandalized for once. 

“No. I…someone literally knocked on my door this morning and, yeah. A Christmas Miracle if you ask me.” The other Brian laughed—or screeched at that, burying his head on Brian’s chest again. 

“Oh, bitch, Christmas Miracle, alright!” Brian disconnected the call after that. She will understand. 

“What was that?” Brian with brown eyes asks him. 

“Fame, she sent that who was supposed to, uh, service me-“

“Not that!” He laughs again.

“Oh, you mean…” Brian connected their lips again, tongue pushing through his lips and teeth immediately. The other man didn’t miss a beat. The response was immediate this time. They pulled away only to catch their breaths. 

“…this?” Brian finished after the kiss. 

“Yeah, that.” He replies, breathless.

“You can’t just lie in here and pretend that it was unprovoked, honey. You were giving me that look.” Brian raised an eyebrow playfully. 

He laughs again and pressed a kiss right on Brian’s jaw. Brian almost ejaculated at the contact. 

“I meant what I said in the living room.” He whispers shyly.

“Yeah, but you didn’t finish telling me why and what exactly you have to sort this out.” Reviewing the past events on his head, Brian doesn’t see any negative implications of whether or not the incident happens a second time. It’s something that they can keep between them, a detail that is not for the public’s consumption. Despite being labeled as a weird and whacky over-sharer, Brian is a private person. He doesn’t share the personal anecdotes that give away what his life is like. This includes stories about his family, his childhood, and his personal life. Being a popular singer, he knows that it will be harder for Brian Firkus, with the current technology and the eager paparazzi. That is, however only from Brian’s point of view.

“I mean, I will never regret doing it, _this_ , but we don’t know how this will affect our careers in the future. To be honest, this could even be a big boost for my publicity, but I want my success to be from all my hard work alone.” Brian hugged him tighter.

“I might sound biased with my opinion, but I think you already earned that. You ARE successful. You sold a million copies before you even met me. You had sold-out concerts. No matter what those homophobic critiques say about your work, there are hundreds of positive and glowing reviews against a handful of balding white men who’s got no taste in music. If anything, I think I will gain more publicity from this if it ever comes out.” 

“You hate that, don’t you? Being in the spotlight.” Brian’s heart swelled at his concerned tone. He was always elusive of the cameras.

“If I’m in the spotlight with you, I guess I wouldn’t mind.” He whispers. The consequences surrounding this meeting could not be any more eccentric, and it gave Brian the confidence to just go for it. 

“What…what does that mean?” 

“I know this weird and far from romantic but, I haven’t’ been with anyone in years, and if you’re not seeing anyone else, do you maybe wanna try this dating this thing?” 

Brian Firkus answered with a kiss, even deeper, more languid, yet still soft, slow, and passionate. They had, maybe not all the time in the world, but the rest of the spirit of their own Christmas Miracle on that very day.


End file.
